


Leaving Song

by Trash



Series: Thirty Days [5]
Category: AFI
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Advey - Freeform, Angst, M/M, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 13:08:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1429702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Davey usually writes in solitude.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leaving Song

**Author's Note:**

> 30 Day OTP Challenge - Day 5, Kissing.

Davey writes in solitude. This isn’t a new thing, and is something the whole band has gotten used to. It used to seem entirely random, but now there are certain tells that they can all pick up on that means Davey is coming close to one of his moments. He becomes withdrawn, so slowly you might not even notice it is happening, and then his depression overwhelms him. He locks himself away wherever he is – his house, Adam’s apartment, the bus, the studio, a venue – and emerges later like a butterfly from a cocoon, some invisible weight lifted from his shoulders as he clutches a tatty legal pad to his chest. He’ll seek Jade out and say, “Can I see you for a moment?”

A moment could be hours. Could be days. Together they mould Davey’s words into music, into something to present to the rest of the band. Sometimes it can’t be done, and Jade will leave whatever room he and Davey were holed up in and shake his head solemnly. “I’m not ready to talk about it,” he’ll say, which Adam hates because this is Davey’s problem, not Jade’s. And someone really ought to be in that room with him right fucking now making sure he isn’t up to anything that he will regret or will require a tip to the ER.

Today is one of those days. Adam sits beside him on Davey’s porch, watching the sun as it sinks slowly. “Isn’t it weird how sunsets are the same everywhere you are?” Adam says.

And Davey just grunts, doesn’t even look at him. “I think you should go,” he says eventually. “I need to...I have to go...” he gestures with his hands, trying to shape his words with them.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Davey shoots him a look.

“It’s been years, Dave. Years of this, and not once have you let me in. What is it that you don’t want me to know about that you’re comfortable letting Jade in on, huh? I thought we were...” best friends? It’s more than that by now, surely. If Davey doesn’t know already that Adam’s love for him runs deeper and hotter than friendship then he is blind.

“It’s not like that. It’s not that I’m not comfortable letting you in on it, it’s that you wouldn’t see me in the same way again. You’d always see me the way Jade sees me, and that isn’t...I’m not that person. Not really.”

Adam takes his hand and holds it, lacing their fingers together. “Davey, look at me,” he says, waits patiently until he does, “how many times have you picked me up when I’ve been too drunk to walk home? How many times have you cleaned up my messes? But you don’t treat me like some lush, even though I’ve acted like one at times. That isn’t how this works.” This. Us. Love.

Davey looks at him closely, says nothing for long enough that the sun sinks steadily below the horizon. Eventually he nods, the inner battle he was obviously waging now over. "Okay. Okay." He gets up and heads inside, Adam hot on his heels. He follows Davey to his bedroom, where he draws the curtains and closes the door behind them, locking it. "Sit down," he says to Adam as he takes off his shirt. 

For a moment Adam wonders if Davey has completely misread the situation as something else entirely and wants to warn him to stop but he is already taking off his pants, leaving him in just his underwear. He lies down on the bed and stares at the ceiling, eyes unblinking. 

Adam sits on the ottoman at the foot of the bed, watching carefully. From his vantage point Davey's body is a landscape of bones with skin pulled tight over muscle and sinew and all those other things that are just below the surface. His tattoos are like a map, punctuated only by the raised scars Adam had always assumed were there but had never seen. Until now.

Like when he star gazes, once he sees one he sees lots. Leading a path up both of Davey's thighs these raised scars climb under the leg of his underwear, reappearing across his hipbones and lower stomach below his tattoo. Davey whispers in what could be tongues to the ceiling, eyes finally closing. 

"I've been here so many times," he says. He sits up so suddenly Adam startles, watching Davey scramble around for his notebook and pen. He flips to a page full of doodles and writes something, closing the book and his eyes, setting down the pen. 

"Does it hurt?" Adam asks. 

Davey looks at him. "I haven't done it for a while."

"Okay." Adam's heart pounds in his chest. He feels like this is a big deal, isn't sure what to do. The only thing he wants is to press his lips to those scars, as if his kiss might be a salve. 

"What are you thinking?"

"Nothing appropriate."

Davey smiles, and it is beautiful. "Try me."

And Adam feels the walls come down. "I want to kiss you," he says. 

"Okay. I'm waiting."

He hadn't expected that as a response, and therefore has no idea what to do. So he moves off the ottoman and onto the bed, his crossed legs brushing Davey's bare knees. He presses a hand to Davey's thigh, finger splayed out over his scars, and leans in to kiss him. It is soft, tentative, and he wonders if he is the only one trembling. 

Davey pulls away first and his expression is unreadable. "When you leave this room, what will you think of? Will you think of me like this?" He spreads his arms to gesture at the squalor of his bedroom. "Or like this," he leans in and cups Adam's face with one hand, kissing him. 

"Like this," Adam whispers against Davey's lips. "Just like this."

Davey kisses him again, says, "Good."


End file.
